Hope
by AmazingApple
Summary: A quiet Ravenclaw unintentionally throws herself under the determined eyes of an interested Blaise Zabini. She has to be careful and hold onto her wit to survive this new and dangerous relationship if she wants to stay safe as a muggle-born witch in an increasingly dangerous wizarding world in their 6th year at Hogwarts. BlaisexOC
1. The Girl with the Book

She sat alone at a small circular table in the corner of The Three Broomsticks, a pewter tankard filled with warm butterbeer in front of her, as she silently read her book. She reached forward and lifted her pint for a drink, pausing and furrowing her eyebrows as she noted it was becoming increasingly more difficult to focus on the words on the pages in front of her as the noise in the pub grew even louder than usual. Even though The Three Broomsticks Inn was not a typical spot for the usual peace and quiet that a book lover would appreciate, Elle Gadeziento understood that it was easier to disappear in a crowd than in an open field.  
She put down her butterbeer and turned her dark eyes to the head of the pub to where the source of the ruckus that was distracting her from her reading stood; she sighed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head, when she saw, to no surprise, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy beefing up against each other. She didn't know what the argument was about or how it had started, but what Elle did know was that she could see wands being drawn by both sides of the heated fight, including Ron Weasley besides his fellow Gryffindor and Theodore Nott beside his fellow Slytherin.  
"Oh for goodness sake," she said with a huff. Furrowing her brow, irritated at the disturbance of peace and not liking the thought of the impeding violence, Elle slid her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at the group of Hogwarts students that were drawing worried and bothered eyes from all around the usually cheery pub.  
'_Accio wands_,' she thought, calling to the magic instruments that would soon be used as weapons into her awaiting arms.  
Light gasps and bewildered faces replaced the bickering as many eyes followed the path of the wands to Elle. She grimaced slightly as she realized what she had done and quickly forced a placid mask onto her now nervous body. She closed her book, slipping her own wand back into the pocket of her robes, and held it against her body in one arm, the other one holding the four wands she had just, in reality, stolen; though she would rather say confiscated in the name passive conflict resolution.  
Taking a deep breath through her nose, she walked forward to the group of fellow wizard students, bearing an array of looks ranging from menacing snarls to udder confusion, and spoke calmly.  
"Forgive me," she said with quiet grace, "but I think everyone will agree that here and now are neither the time nor the place for a battle."  
She swallowed inconspicuously beneath her armor of calm as she saw the surprise on their faces once they heard her; Elle knew the first thing that would appear to them would be her glaring American accent.  
"Who the bloody hell are you?" Draco Malfoy spat, turning towards Elle with a cruel gaze. "And who the hell do you think you are to take _my_ wand?"  
Elle met his threatening grey eyes with her passive ones, looking up from her short height, and fought the urge to step back as her heart fluttered in her chest with buried fear.  
She cleared her throat nervously and turned away from him, handing Potter and Weasley's wands to a skeptical Hermione Granger and then Malfoy and Nott's wands to an apparently amused Blaise Zabini, both of whom had stayed out of the fighting.  
Blaise looked at Elle curiously for a moment, his arms crossed casually across his chest as he leaned back against the bar counter -apparently having been watching the argument with either indifference and/or no intention of stopping the show -and the small hint of a smirk came to his lips.  
Elle quickly averted her eyes from him after he reached forward and took his friends' wands from her outstretched hand. She walked towards the door and turned when there were several feet left between her and the freedom of the awaiting Hogsmead outside.  
"I didn't mean to offend anyone or anything of the sort," she said apologetically to them, counting down the seconds to when she could escape from the trap she had created for herself in the crowed pub that was now watching her, "but I'm sure Madam Rosmerta would appreciate it if you refrained from any further fighting in her otherwise pleasant inn. There's no need for such fighting, especially not at the beginning of a new school year."  
With that and a curt not, Elle pulled the hood of her cloak up around her face and turned with her book clutched to her chest, exiting The Three Broomsticks with a ding of the bell that hung above the door.

All those inside the pub looked curiously around at the bizarre scene that had just occurred. Hermione cautiously handed her friends' wands back to them while Blaise Zabini left his friends' wands on the counter, quickly grabbing his robe from the back of his chair and heading for the door, ignoring the protest of his blonde-haired friend.  
Pulling his long cloak around him against the chilly winter winds that blew snow flurries up into the air, the tall, dark-skinned boy swept his gaze around the snow covered village of Hogsmead, searching for the girl with the book, to no avail. She was gone. He knew nothing about her besides what he had just seen; because it was a Saturday afternoon, none of the Hogwarts students were wearing their house robes, which included Elle, whose name no one knew. This left Blaise with only his memory of their brief encounter to identify her, he thought with subtle disappointment.  
She had been pretty, he noted, but there was a quiet beauty to her. She wore no make-up to draw attention to herself, something he observed with interest. Her hair had been elegantly braided down her back, but he knew nothing else of it besides it being long and black. And inside of The Three Broomsticks, there had not been proper lighting to get a good look at her eyes, so he knew that they were simply not blue or green. Her skin had been a lovely shade of caramel, he thought, a slight irritation growing in him as he realized he knew nearly nothing about her. There were countless girls at Hogwarts with long, dark hair and tan skin.  
Blaise was released from his thought when he turned around as he heard the jingle of the door bell as his two mates exited The Three Broomsticks. "Have you any idea who that girl was?" Blaise asked casually, looking at Draco's pouting face.  
"Quite frankly, I don't care who that little bitch was," he snapped as the trio of Slytherin boys marched forward across the crunchy, white grass, "as long as she never takes my wand again. Girls shouldn't step out of their place like that. Let's just get out of here. I've seen Potter's face enough today."  
"I was really looking forward to hexing that ginger blood-traitor," Theodore Nott said, smirking a devilish grin. "Maybe even mudblood Granger."  
"I say you two blokes are lucky that girl did something," Blaise said sensibly, not fearing the wrath of his long-time friends. "Getting your arses expelled from one of the only good places to get a decent butterbeer around here over Potter and Weasley is hardly worth it."  
"Whatever," Theodore said with a wave of his hand, frowning at Blaise's logic.  
They walked down most of the rest of the long path back to Hogwarts in silence.  
"Oi," Theodore said a few minutes later, nudging his friends and pointing up ahead, "isn't that the American bird from the pub?"  
Blaise's eyes shot up from where they had been gazing at the ground to ahead on the path where he saw a girl in robes billowing in the wind and her long, dark hair braided down her back as she hurried back to Hogwarts.  
"Oi!" Blaise called out, walking ahead of his friends towards her. "Hey, you!"  
Elle felt her heart shoot up to her throat in panic and forced herself not to turn around. She couldn't risk any further confrontation with those boys, the Slytherin royalty.  
With a quick spiral motion of her wand next to her head and a fast incantation of the disillusionment charm, a veil of enchanted invisibility gently settled over Elle, making it look like she disappeared in the snow-laced wind. She nearly forgot to cast the obliteration charm on her dainty footprints on the snow covered ground as she hurried into the Great Hall of the castle, holding her book against her racing heart for comfort.  
Because many students were away at Hogsmead or secluded areas of the castle, Elle decided not to leave it to chance and stayed concealed beneath her magic until she reached Ravenclaw Tower.  
With a sigh of relief, Elle pulled off her cloak as she ascended the stone steps of the spiral staircase, waiting before the eagle door knocker as it came to life, spreading its winds and ruffling its bronze feathers as it awoke.  
"Give me food, and I will live; give me water, and I will die," it spoke in its wise, old voice. Elle lightly furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes at the metal bird, thinking about the riddle she needed to solve in order to enter her house's common room.  
After a moment of silence, she smiled and replied surely, "Fire."  
Her smile spread to a triumphant grin as the door swung open with a welcoming moan. Elle had only ever failed at a riddle by the bronze eagle once, in her first year at Hogwarts.  
'_Never again_,' she vowed as she entered the serine blue room to the friendly sound of the low crackling fire in the grand fireplace, '_will I be outwit._'  
She turned around, a silent smirk on her face, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

The trio of Slytherin boys entered the Great Hall, shaking the light snow out of their hair.  
'_She's__ American_,' Blaise thought, a renewed feeling of confidence growing in him at the thought of Theodore's words. '_This won't be that hard._'  
He would find this girl, he decided, for whatever this strange new desire was.


	2. Amortentia

Elle dipped her quill in the ink bottle, writing her name at the top of her parchment that would soon be one of her many essays of her sixth year at Hogwarts for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Even though it was only the first few weeks of school, she was already getting tons of work from her new teacher. She had been surprised -certainly not pleasantly -when she had returned to her beloved school to find Professor Severus Snape the new D.A.D.A. teacher. But she supposed it was at least better than the ever-pink Dolores Umbridge. Perhaps she would actually learn something this year in this class.  
She certainly hoped so, since she was taking a N.E.W.T. level class; Professor Snape required that any student who was to take his advanced N.E.W.T level class must have achieved an "Exceeds Expectations" or higher on their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. exam the year before. And she had; Elle had achieved all "Exceeds Expectations" on her O.W.L.s, and even a few of the highest ranking score, "Outstanding", in her favorite subjects: Herbology, Charms, and Transfiguration. She was ecstatic naturally. As was she excited to write her current essay for D.A.D.A.;  
she was hoping to propose her theory on humanely pacifying an attacking African Tebo by matching its invisibility with a cloak made from Demiguise hair and injecting it with diluted Erumpent fluid with a syringe made of an Occamy egg's silver, hardened by shed Ashwinder skin, to puncture the creature's nearly impervious hide. After the Tebo was pacified and relocated, it could be injected with a small amount of the blood of a Re'em, which would heal and revive the beast. Before she began, she wanted to check to make sure that several ingredients in a calming drought used to dilute the Erumpent fluid would not be canceled out when in contact with the poison And that was why she was in the library.  
Traveling effortlessly through they labyrinth of towering bookshelves in the busy library on that Wednesday after classes had finished for the day, having become comfortably familiar with the large section of the Hogwarts' castle, Elle walked to the area of books where she knew she would find the answer to her question. She ran one finger lightly across the soft, old wood of the bookcases until she reached her destination, looking around at the grand library with an affectionate sense of admiration. Slowly making her way up a rolling ladder as she searched the aisle, Elle reached out to pull her book from its place as soon as she spotted it. But she was unpleasantly greeted with the book flying off the shelf and into the hand of a tall, wavy-haired brunette boy with a smug grin on his face to perfectly match the green tie tied around his neck.  
She kept a placid demeanor as she climbed back down the ladder, her hands gripping the sides tightly with the beginnings of an escape plan. Theodore Nott raised an intrigued eyebrow as he watched the girl descend the staircase, looking shamelessly up and down her petite body in her uniform skirt that he thought showed off her smooth, tan legs very well.  
"Ravenclaw," the boys said triumphantly as she reached the floor, standing up straight with her arms crossed over her chest. Elle only narrowed her eyes in response, subtly clenching her jaw.  
Noting her piqued silence, Theodore chuckled to himself.  
"My, my," he tutted, shaking his head coyly. "You sure had a lot more to say at the pub the other day."  
Elle withheld from furrowing her eyebrows, keeping an stony expression.  
"Theodore Nott, right?" she stated more than asked. He bowed slightly in a mocking manner with a sly smirk, waving his hand in towards himself as if he was a prize.  
"Do you plan on giving me back my book," she continued, Theodore observing her American accent with amusement, "or are you simply quenching boredom?"  
"What makes you think that I don't need," he replied, holding out the book to read its cover, "_'A Look into the Works of Droughts for All of Life's Most Amenable Aspects and Necessities'_?"  
After making a look of disgust and furrowing his eyebrows at the book with distaste, he scoffed and finished, "Oh goodness, never mind. You can have it."  
Just as he tossed the book to the highly un-amused girl, several feet in between them, Theodore Nott's friend, whom he had abandoned in the hopelessly boring library, came around the corner.  
"Honestly, Theodore," Blaise Zabini spoke with a dull irritation in his deep, English voice, "sometimes I think I should keep you on a leash. You wonder off like a chil-."  
His words were cut off with the blunt thump of a heavy book hitting the ground at the feet of the girl who had been dancing through his mind since the weekend at Hogsmead. There she was, standing with her arms crossed over her chest, a blue Ravenclaw tie around her dainty neck, and a guileful look on her pretty face. Her hair was down today, instead of in a braid as he had been envisioning since he had seen her in The Three Broomsticks four days ago. It was long, he observed, past her chest, and dark. Her curls were lovely, as well, he thought. They suited her much kindlier-  
"You're supposed to catch it, you know," Theodore said to the girl innocently, pulling Blaise from his his thoughts. He hoped he hadn't been staring.  
"You're not supposed to throw books," Elle replied not moving to pick up the book. Her eyes quickly flickered to the tall, dark-skinned boy beside Theodore Nott. A small smirk pulled at the corner of Blaise's lips as she spoke.  
"It's not as if they're valuable," Theodore replied with a shrug.  
"I suppose you wouldn't know," Elle retorted.  
There was a moment of silence between the three students before Blaise finally stepped forward, gently picking up the book and holding it out to the girl with a suave grace that only peeved Elle off even more. She reached forward, pulling the book against her chest and met his eyes with a different attitude than when she looked at the other Slytherin boy.  
"Thank you," she said politely with a small nod, a finalizing tone in her soft voice. With that and not a backward glance, she turned around and walked away with quick, light steps.  
"Well now you've gone and scared her off," Theodore said, the eternal smirk audible in his voice. Everything was a game with that boy.  
"I'm sure you being a complete tosser has nothing to do with it," Blaise replied slyly, turning his eyes away from where she had left to face his friend.  
"Eh," Theodore replied with a dismissing wave of his hand. "Anything to pass the time. She wasn't so hard on the eyes, don't you think? She's obviously long overdue for a proper shagging though, it seems."  
Blaise walked past his long-time friend, not partaking in his usual crude observations of the opposite sex. Sometimes he would offer a sarcastic or maybe even chiding comment, but not this time.

Sitting back at a small table secluded in a far corner of the library, Elle worked on her essay, telling herself that her heart hadn't been beating _that_ fast when those boys had confronted her. It was just such a shame that such handsome boys were always playing games.

* * *

She stood, holding her copy of '_Advanced Potion-Making'_ book against her with her arms wrapped around it, off to the side and towards the back of the crowd that was gathered at the front of the potions classroom around their new potions master, Professor Slughorn, and the table that he had prepared that displayed several different exemplary potions. Blaise stood on the other side of the room with Draco, Theodore, and a few other Slytherins taking the advanced potions class.  
He noticed the girl for whom he had acquired a peculiar interest, though she didn't seem to notice him glancing over at her from time to time as their teacher spoke to the class as the period began. He observed the genuinely interested look on her face as she listened to the professor's lecture with slight admiration and the way that she had her long, curly hair pulled to one side over her shoulders, giving him a clear view of her elegant profile. Her face was made of graceful curves and high cheekbones beneath her long, thick eyelashes that framed her big, round almond-shaped eyes. They were deep and dark, quiet and observing. Blaise Zabini liked them.  
He contrastingly rolled his eyes with distaste when those fools Potter and Weasley came into class late, interrupting their lesson, and when that know-it-all mudblood Granger raised her hand for every fucking question. He had had enough of her annoying voice over the past six years of school at Hogwarts in almost every class of his.  
Then the subject of Amortentia came up and all the girls in the room lost their wits for a brief, enjoyable moment. The boys in class, not nearly as affected by the love potion, looked around with amusement at the silly girls. Blaise, like most of the other boys, was smirking, until his gaze came to the new girl in his sights. He kept his face uninterested as he watched her with curiosity; she took a deep breath, undoubtedly smelling whatever intoxicating aroma the Amortentia seduced her with, and smiled lightly to herself, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. Unlike the other girls in class though, he noted with curiosity, she controlled herself enough to not be drawn forward to the small cauldron that held the tempting love potion. The brief thought of what she could possibly smell from the love potion crossed his mind before his attention was again brought to the front of the classroom.  
"Felix Felicis," Professor Slughorn spoke. "Or more commonly referred to as Liquid Luck. Desperately tricky to make, disastrous should you get it wrong. One sip and you will find that all of your endeavors succeed. That is, until the effects wear off. So that is what I offer each of you today; one tiny vile of Liquid Luck to the student to who in the hour that remains manages to brew an acceptable Drought of Living Dead." And so, the contest began.

An hour later, potions class -the irritated, disappointed class- came to an end. There had been at least a dozen different forms of failure brewed in the many cauldrons around the room. Blaise, a proud potioneer, looked down at his pot with a frown. Though his potion hadn't exploded, jumped out of his pot like a possessed creature, or burned through the metal of his cauldron, the lifeless liquid before him, unfortunately, wasn't a success either.  
One by one, Professor Slughorn went around the classroom, dropping a small leaf into each student's cauldron to test their potion. Each time and time again, he tutted and gave them a sympathetic condolence. Until he came to Harry Potter; he dropped the leaf into Potter's cauldron and then excitedly congratulated him for brewing a perfect pot of Drought of Living Dead, much to the dismay of everyone else in the class, especially the Slytherins.  
And so, class was over and all the students began cleaning up their belongings. Soon the class began emptying out. Blaise was about to leave, until his attention was drawn to the other side of the dungeon classroom. Professor Slughorn was cheering in the same tone of voice as when he had congratulated Potter. This time though, he was gushing over another student, the same girl who Blaise was becoming more and more interested in. "Oh my!" Professor Slughorn said with an excited clap. "This is a flawless Drought of Living Dead! Now, my dear girl, why didn't you say anything before? I assumed after Potter that no one else had succeeded. My apologies, but you are just so quite, I didn't even notice you! I'm afraid I haven't even caught your name yet."  
She smiled humbly at her professor, obviously uncomfortable with the open appraisal.  
"I'm Elpis, sir. Elpis Gadeziento. Honestly though," she said, her voice timid, "I don't mind it."  
"Well I say I owe you a vile of Felix Felicis. You really should speak up in the future, Miss, ah-"  
"Gadeziento," she told him, knowing very well that people had trouble with her name.  
"Lovely last name. Spanish, I presume?"  
"Yes," she replied, nodding lightly. "But really," she continued, trying to move through the conversation as fast as possible. "You don't owe me anything."  
"As a favor to me then," Professor Slughorn insisted, "I ask you to join me at my Christmas party. It's an old tradition I have from when I used to teach here many years ago. Longer than I'm keen to admit," he joked, laughing at his own humor. Elle joined in with a light, slightly forced chuckle.  
"A young, talented lady like you would be an honorable edition to my, ah, _gathering_. I take pleasure in encouraging greatness among my students, so naturally, only the best are invited. With what you've accomplished today, I say you're in that tier."  
"Thank you," she said politely, "Professor Slughorn. I appreciate it. It sounds like a great time."  
"Wonderful!" he said with a warm, aged smile. "Now I do say, it's about time to get to your next class. I'm sure the other Professors would hardly appreciate me keeping such a fine student from their class. Off you go now!"  
With a wave of his wand, Professor Slughorn collected a flask of Elpis' Drought of Living Dead and vanished the rest. She gathered her books and with a flick of her wand, sent her cauldron to her dorm. Blaise, having been watching the exchange, quickly followed her out of class as she rushed away. Out in the hallway, he hesitated for a moment, watching her sigh and brush her long curls over her shoulder. There was a light look of what he thought to be worry on her face that Blaise guessed she didn't let surface when other people were around.  
"So you're name is Elpis?" he called out, easily catching up to her with a few long strides. She looked up at him, a surprised look on his face.  
"Yes," she answered simply, looking away from him to down the hall where they were walking. She was unsettled, having a boy like Blaise Zabini talking to her and walking close beside her.  
"That's an interesting name," he continued calmly, slightly amused at her fast pace as she walked quickly through the stairs up from the dungeons where potions class was held. You'd think she was trying to get away.  
"Greek," she replied. Short, simple answers, he noted.  
"But you're Spanish?" he asked, absorbing anything he could about this girl who had managed to stay invisible for so long. He was having an enjoyable time letting her know someone saw her.  
"I overheard," he explained in response to the curious side glance she threw him as they emerged into the main hallways of Hogwarts.  
"Yep," she replied, a hint of resistance in her voice.  
"And American?" Blaise continued in his smooth, deep voice.  
"That's right," she answered.  
"So-"  
"Look," she interrupted, "I have Studies of Ancient Runes to get to. So if you don't mind, I'll be going now."  
She gave him a curt nod, her face calm and unreadable, and walked away, disappearing down the hall.  
Blaise looked after her, watching her go. As she turned at the end of the long, empty hallway, he though he saw her glance his way, tucking a curl behind her ear.  
'_She really isn't making this easy_,' Blaise Zabini thought to himself, raising an eyebrow and allowing himself a smirk. '_All the merrier_.'


	3. Holding Your Tongue

She sat in an area of one of the elongated tables in the Great Hall that was encased with empty space, the sparse students in the grand room scattered about in the sleepy hours of the morning. Elle was absentmindedly eating a bowl of warm porridge, long pauses in between her bites as her eyes didn't leave the pages of the book in front of her on the table. She was studying a book for Study of Ancient Runes, an engaged look on her face. Every once in a while, she would furrow her eyebrows lightly, as if she came across something that displeased her. Then she would scribble something down on the small piece of parchment beside her book with her quill and eventually turn the page. Blaise Zabini sauntered into the Great Hall, pulling the tough gloves off his hands with his broomstick tucked under his arm.  
As expected, he did not see either of his friends as he swept his cavalier eyes across the room, seeing as both Draco and Theodore were most definitely still in the Slytherin dorms, sleeping until it was time to awaken for the school day, which wouldn't be for at least another half hour. What he didn't expect was to see her simply sitting there out in the open. He had established the idea that she was an elusive catch, yet there she was. With a passing smirk as he blinked, Blaise made his way over to the table she was sitting at, laying his broomstick down on the table beside him and crossing his arms.  
Elle glanced up from the words on the page in front of her to the boy across from her, not fully raising her face to him. She visibly sighed, her shoulders rising and falling.  
"Yes?" she asked, keeping her attention on her book.  
"There has to be an ulterior motive for everything I do?" Blaise replied, matching her mellow tone. "Am I not allowed to eat breakfast with a fellow student?"  
This earned him her full gaze, resulting her to incline her chin at him and causing one corner of his lips to turn up almost inconspicuously.  
"I'm sorry," she said, a postured politeness in her soft voice. "Go ahead then, have your breakfast. Don't let me bother you. In _fact_, pretend as if I'm not even here."  
With that, she looked back down at her book, the fake smile on her lips immediately extinguished. Blaise furrowed his eyebrows lightly, narrowing his eyes at her with amusement. He began whistling, a simple tune that she recognized -with a growing irritation that made her right eyebrow twitch -as "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts."  
Elle straightened her shoulders, closing her book with a defiant look in her eyes, and stared at the boy with disbelief. Blaise smiled at her, not halting his rendition of the Hogwarts school song as he buttered himself a piece of toast.  
"What's wrong?" he asked, slightly tilting his head at her.  
"I've lost my appetite is all," she replied coolly packing her things away into her bag. Blaise studied her face as she turned away from him, noting the way her soft jawline was clenched firmly, a smirk growing on his face again.  
"What? Not in the mood for sharing some school spirit?"  
"I would say I'm never in the mood to share anything with _you_, Blaise Zabini."  
"Oh?" he questioned patronizingly in his deep voice. "You know my name then?"  
"Everyone knows your name," Elle replied bluntly, not meaning it as a compliment. "You've made sure of that, strutting around this school since day one."  
"I don't think that's very fair," Blaise replied, keeping his voice dull and unfazed as he took a bite out of his food.  
She laughed curtly at his words, shaking her head.  
'_Fair_,' she thought to herself, refraining from her urge to scream. "I don't think you know the meaning of the word."  
"I most certainly do," he argued , taking pleasure from her attitude, though his even voice did not hint at that. "A good example: a boy is perfectly pleasant at breakfast and the girl he is talking to extends the same courtesy. That would be nice and proper."  
"Oh please, this isn't the 19th century. And besides, I have no interest in being a proper lady if it means complying to the likes of you. But I'll tell you what _else_ would be nice and proper," Elle continued, chiding unamusedly in her American accent. "Not putting your broom on the table. I don't expect you to be concerned with the well-being of others, but other people eat here, you know."  
"My apologies," Blaise said, moving his broomstick to the bench beside him.  
"And honestly," she said as stood, her bag slung over her shoulders. Blaise noted that she was holding the strap tightly with both of her dainty hands. "Quidditch this early in the morning?"  
"Studying this early in the morning?" he rebutted coyly.  
He watched her face, catching the smallest shadow of a smile at the corner of her lips on her otherwise stony face. With that, she turned and left, not looking back. Blaise smirked with one side of his mouth as he looked down at his plate.  
She had smiled, against her best wished, but she most certainly was not pleased. She was far from it, in reality.

* * *

Elle was walking down the hall, her books held against her chest. Her bright eyes were staring straight ahead, already in Defence Against the Dark Arts. The hallways became emptier as Elle made her way to class, the students dispersing around the massive castle to their own classes. She turned down yet another hallway and stopped dead in her tracks, seeing two boys sitting in the sill of one of the castle's large windows, their heads bent in towards each other as they spoke in hushed voices.  
She forced her eyes to look away from the pair of Slytherin boys, one silver haired and the other brunette. She slowly started walking forward, willing her footsteps to be silent, contemplating whether it was too late to turn around. She would be late to class if she changed course for a detour in the labyrinth of hallways. There was the possibility, however slight, they she could scamper by unnoticed-  
The silver-haired boy stood from the window sill, stepping after Elle as she tried with all her power to be invisible.  
"Hold up," he said, a sense of entitlement in his cold voice that could almost make people believe he had a right to speak like that. Almost. But it was just enough to make Elle's footsteps slow down, and then stop all together as the racing of her heart seemed to drain the ability from all her other body parts to move.  
"You're not deaf, are you?" Draco Malfoy spat, boring his eyes into the girl. "You look at someone when they're talking to you."  
She turned around quickly, her face emotionless and unreadable.  
"I have class to get to," Elpis said simply, taking a step backwards. She managed to keep her voice blank and unalarmed; a complete lie.  
"You are familiar with manners, aren't you?" he replied, scowling at her. Theodore sat, watching his friend with sharp eyes and a clenched jaw. She didn't know what they had been talking about when she came across them, but Elpis sensed it had not left either of them in a benign mood. It had apparently done the complete opposite.  
"I assure you you don't have to concern yourself in that matter," she responded coolly.  
"Draco," Theodore spoke in an impatient tone, demanding his friend's attention. But he was set on throwing his tantrum.  
"Apparently I do," Draco said, ignoring his friend, his voice filled with nothing other than cruelty and anger, "if you think you can go around taking wizards' wands from them. Are you proud of your little stunt back at the pub then? Think you're clever?"  
"I didn't do anything to be clever," Elle spoke, her voice unyielding in the face of his unspoken threats. "I would say I did everyone a favor, stopping a fight from breaking out in the middle of The Three Broomsticks."  
"And what makes you think you can do as you please?" the Malfoy boy derogated. "You should learn to keep hold you tongue."  
A wicked smile grew on Elpis' face at his words, a million biting reprimands on her tongue. If only he knew just how much she was holding her tongue.  
"Draco," Theodore -who on usual circumstances would've joined his friend in terrorizing the girl -repeated, refusing to be ignored as he stood and faced his friend, placing his hand on his shoulder to rip his attention away from his scapegoat.  
"I'll keep that in mind," Elle spoke, a quiet sour tone underlying in her voice. She turned around, forcing herself to take strong, paced strides instead of the frantic steps she longed to take to get as far away from that boy as she could. Her face sunk to an uneasy look of deep thought as she disappeared around the corner, the voices of the boys as they returned to their conversation fading behind her.

She rushed into the D.A.D.A. classroom just in the nick of time, barely a second away from being late and suffering the wrath and embarrassment that Professor Snape would have inevitably unleashed on any student, save his precious Slytherins, who came into class late. She blended into a chair in the back of the class at an empty table, not looking at anything or anyone as she got her ink and quill out. Only one boy in the middle of the rows of tables glanced back at her and saw the troubled look on her face. Blaise Zabini furrowed his dark eyes at her in thought with a casual glance over his shoulder before turning to face the front of the classroom with the look of apathy that he had mastered throughout his life, unable to push what he had thought to be a look of fear on her face for a moment out of his mind.


	4. Truth

Elpis glanced up, weary of her schoolwork, and was displeased to see a boy walking towards her. She quickly looked over her scroll of parchment, pretending to not have noticed.  
"You know," Theodore Nott said, sitting down in a chair across the table from her as she didn't acknowledge his presence. "I think the reason as to why I can't recall you ever before may be because you've always got your face buried in a book."  
Elpis continued to ignore the boy, delicately rolling up her star chart for Astronomy class. It had been two weeks since their encounter in the hallway, and he seemed perfectly content dismissing the memory. She would have liked to do the same, but it didn't come as easily to her.  
"Oh goodness, there's more!" Theodore exclaimed as Elpis pulled out a book from her school bag. She let it hit the table slightly harder than necessary and turned her eyes on him, finally speaking.  
"You _do_ realize you're in a library, right?" she snapped, lowering her voice as she realized how loud she started off. "This is what people do at the library. They get work done. If you're not going to do the same, you're free to leave."  
"Oh," the handsome boy said cheerfully, "but my friend is getting some sort of book, I think, so that counts as work. I'm here for moral support."  
"I didn't think you were familiar with the word 'moral,'" Elpis replied coolly, dipping her quill in her jar of ink as she wrote on a piece of parchment.  
"I have a wide variety of vocabulary," he rebutted. "I just choose to play on the other end of the spectrum from 'moral.' I find life is much more entertaining that way."  
"Good for you," she congratulated sarcastically, not looking up from her work. She flipped through the pages of her book until she found the chapter that she was looking for. "You should be getting back to your latest toy now. I'm sure she'd appreciate your presence much more than I."  
"I'm fine without Theodore's presence," a voice spoke from behind Elpis. Her eyes flickered away from her paper nervously, but she calmly glanced up as the boy walked around the table and sat down beside his fellow house-mate.  
"Don't deny it," Theodore joked. "You know you love my company."  
"Couldn't live without it," Blaise Zabini replied monotonously. He met Elpis' watching eyes before they fluttered away. She brushed a curl behind her ear as she returned her stare to the runes on the page in front of her. "And I disagree with that title," he continued, speaking directly to the girl across the table from him. "I wouldn't call myself Theodore's toy. If anything, I'm more his conscience."  
"Then who's yours?" Elpis asked, smiling patronizingly at the boy, her shyness forgotten in her acrimony. "Draco Malfoy? Or is he simply your ring leader?"  
The boys both seemed slightly taken aback at her words, but their faces of surprise quickly morphed into amused smirks.  
"You really do have a sharp tongue," Theodore flirted. "Is that all it's good at?"  
She raised her eyebrows at the boy who seemed quite pleased with himself and let out a light laugh after a moment of silence. Blaise smiled inconspicuously as he saw her grin, full of bright teeth.  
"That's a clever one," she replied. "Do you practice those? Keep a little journal full of pick-up lines? I hope for your sake other girls find them much more charming."  
"They do," Theodore replied indignantly, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "Unlike some witches, they have a good sense of humor." Elpis smiled coolly at him.  
"Trust me, I have a perfectly healthy sense of humor. For one, I at least know when I staring a joke right in the face."  
Blaise licked his lips, holding back a chuckle. It was always a welcome sight to see his friend get rejected by girls; especially this one, for some reason.  
"Did you transfer from Beauxbatons?" Theodore inquired.  
"Is that supposed to be another line? Well, I'd give you an 'Outstanding' for effort."  
"I was just wondering, seeing as all the girls that came from that place were all frigid ice queens like you. You'd fit right in over there."  
"Ooh," Elpis replied, feigning a playful scowl. "Touché."  
A smirk grew on Theodore's face. It wasn't often that his prey offered such stimulating conversation.  
"This has been fun," she continued, the amusement leaving her face as she suddenly remembered who she was talking to. "But I actually have work to do."  
"Apparently," Blaise agreed, reaching across the table and pointing to a rune she had scratched on her scrap piece of parchment. "That means 'feel.' I think the word you're looking for is 'find.' You don't _feel the truth_."  
"It seems that's a topic for debate," Elpis responded, not tolerating her wit being questioned. "I didn't make a mistake. I wrote what I intended to."  
"My apologies if I've offended you," Blaise said, a slight hint of mocking in his passive voice, noting the ice underneath her words.  
"I'm not offended," she promised, looking down at her parchment. Her writing was reaching the end of the scroll as she continued to write, he noted with a slight fall of his expression. "Just right."  
She closed the book before her, sending it along with all the others she had brought out away with a flick of her wand. She tucked it behind her ear, Blaise watched curiously, as she gathered her belongings and put them neatly away in her bag. She looked up, her hands holding onto the strap of her bag, seeming for a moment as if she were about to grace them with a proper farewell, before she blinked sheepishly at Blaise and turned, walking away without a word. He watched her as she left, dissapearing around the corner of a bookshelf.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Blaise saw his friend was watching him and he averted his stare down to the book in front of him, artfully erasing the soft smile that he hadn't realized he had been looking after her with. He blinked away the image of her dark eyes as they had met his. Just before she had left, they had held a softness that he had seen in her for the first time, and it had silently stirred something inside of him, lit a spark somewhere that had never been lit.  
"Have fun with your work," Theodore said, clapping Blaise on the shoulder as he stood. "And wipe the drool off your chin while you're at it," he added, leaning into his friend's ear with a sly grin.


End file.
